[FFML] Fanfic - Transformers - Draft 1: Red Sam Ch2

[Ragman Jack]

Previous chapters can be found at the following:

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/476480 <https://www.fanfiction.net/u/476480/>

———————————


“Samuel.”

Samuel opened his eyes at the sound of Optimus’ voice. He was stripped to the waist, lying on a towel on the hanger’s roof, soaking up the sun. “Yes, Optimus?” He sat up. 

“You should know that the Matrix contained not only my counterpart’s memories, but also your own.”

Samuel’s face fell. “So you know.”

Optimus nodded. “It is your secret and it would not be right of me to tell anyone without your permission.” It was hard to read Cybertronian expressions and Optimus rarely demonstrated emotion,  but Samuel had better experience with them than most and Optimus was mildly annoyed, although not at him. “The Matrix was very insistent that I know, though I cannot say why.”

Samuel nodded, pulling on his shirt. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

“I cannot say,” Optimus replied. “Were I in the same position, I may have made the same choice. But, I do think that being Samuel is affecting your recovery. Mentally, if not physically.”

“So you’re saying I should tell the truth?” 

Optimus shook his head. “I can not - I will not give or deny you permission to reveal yourself. I do, however, suggest that you tell Ratchet, if no one else. You are in a unique situation and if there are  . . . complications, he will know best how to deal with them.” Optimus paused. “Nor will he pass judgement,” he said quietly.

Samuel looked away. “He’s not the ones I’m worried about.”

——————————

The nearest shred of civilization to the base was twenty miles away; a tiny town called Jasper on the crossroads of the interstate and the railroad, the only reason it wasn’t a ghost town.

“KO burger?” Mikaela asked, pushing Bumblebee’s seat forward so Samuel could get out. They were on their way back to Sam’s house so that Samuel could have some of Sam’s old clothes. But first, lunch. 

“Corporal Mitchell said it was good,” Sam replied. 

From the drive-through came the roar of an engine and a car full of teenagers sped out, laughing and hollering as they exited the lot and took off down the street.

“Good,” Mikaela repeated with a note of sarcasm as she gave the small corner lot a pointed look. Besides Bumblebee, the only other vehicle was a lone ten-speed bike chained to a bike rack next to the door.

Whoever had designed the building had taken their cue from McDonald’s and it showed in the buttresses and large windows. While Jasper was in the high desert; meaning that it wasn’t that hot as it might be in say, Reno or Vegas, it was summer and the windows were treated to reflect heat so as not to overtax the air conditioner.
 
“There really isn’t much else unless you want to go out to the truck stop at the crossroads, I guess.” Sam said.

“Ew, no.” Mikaela shuddered. “What about you?” she asked turning to Samuel. “Is this your kind of place?”

“Uh  . . . not really,” Samuel admitted, “I’m a pescatarian.”

“Well that’s going to make this interesting.” Mikaela snarked as they headed inside, blinking momentarily at the blast of the air conditioner.

KO Burger’s Lobby was typical. Large open space, a few roof supports painted in an attempt to be colorful, and a counter lined with registers. At the counter, near the drive-through window, a young man about Sam’s age, drive through headset on his head, was writing something on a clipboard with an irritated frown on his face. 

As they approached, he looked up, the frown vanishing to be replaced by the mask like smile of any customer service worker. “Welcome to KO Burger, Home of — Sam?”

“Jack?” Sam asked, darting forward. “Jack! Oh man! Is this where you wound up?”

“Yup, wild Jasper, Nevada,” Jack said with heavy sarcasm. “Party every night in this town.”

“We can tell,” Mikaela said dryly.

Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh right. Mikaela, this is Jack Darby, we were in the car club at school. Jack, this my girlfriend Mikaela—“

“Barnes?” Jack interrupted. “Oh man, you’re dating Barnes? Dude, whatever demon you made a deal with, hook me up.”

“Oh God, not you too,” Sam groaned. 

“Relax, I’m joking,” Jack told them. “Wait. ’Too’?”

“Miles is convinced I made a deal with the devil,” Sam explained. “I keep telling him there was no deal, but he won’t listen.”

“Yeah, he was always kind of off,” Jack agreed. “So when did you get a twin brother?” He indicated Samuel with his chin.

“Ah . . .” Sam said, trading glances with Mikaela. No one had expected him  to run into anyone he knew in Jasper so they hadn’t bothered to come up with a cover story. “Um . . . I can’t really talk about it.”

“Uh-huh . . . and would ‘it’ also be why the old airbase is no longer abandoned?” Jack asked. 

“Can’t talk about that either,” Sam admitted. “Sorry.”

“Nah, secret stuff, i get it.” Jack shrugged. “So what’re you hungry for?”

Sam ordered a cheeseburger, Mikaela and Samuel both chose what was purportedly a fillet o’ fish sandwich. They all ordered sodas and decided to share a basket of fries.

“Alright,” Jack tapped on the register keys, “and your total is . . . nada.” Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Jack waved him off. “Homie hook-up. Don’t worry about it.”

“Aren’t you gonna get in trouble?” Sam asked.

“Nah.” Jack set three drink cups on the counter. “I’m the only one who knows how to do maintenance on Mount Breakdown.” He waved a hand at the behemoth of a Slushie machine that took up most of one wall. “I’ll be fine.” 

After Jack and Sam had exchanged phone numbers, they took their drinks to a table away from the counter. 

“I like your friend,” Mikaela said.

“Jack? Yeah, he’s - wait, like, or like like?”

“Just like. I promise,” Mikaela assured him and looked at Samuel. “So did you know Jack in your world?”

“Jack . . . yeah,” Samuel looked out the window. “We were . . . good friends. He anchored Arcee.”

Mikaela arched an eyebrow, but decided not to press, especially as Jack was approaching carrying a tray. 

As it turned out, the fish sandwiches were actually pretty good.

————————————————

At the Witwicky house, Samuel looked around in wonder. “It’s so different here,” he mused. He pointed across the street at a house painted a sort of blue gray. “The Barlows house was painted a bright green in . . . back home.”

“Uh . . . that’s the Sandersons,” Sam said. 

“Oh.” Samuel turned back towards Bumblebee and made a whimpering noise.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam asked. 

“Just . . . this really isn’t my world.” Samuel lifted his hands. “I mean . . . the big things, the really noticeable differences, yeah, that’s . . . but then . . .” he waved his hand in the general direction of the Sandersons’ house. “Little things, it just nails you right in the chest.” He leaned forward and rested his head on Bumblebee’s roof. “And it hurts.” for a moment, he stayed like that and then he pushed himself up, swiping at his face with one hand. “Apologies.”

“No . . . nah, it’s fine. You . . . it’s hard to deal with.” Sam nodded, well aware he was saying whatever he could think of to sound comforting and supportive and that it probably sounded like babbling, but he couldn’t stop. “I mean, I’d be upset too, so it’s totally okay.”

Samuel looked down and muttered something, but Sam couldn’t quite make it out. 

“Sorry?” Sam asked and Samuel looked up.

“Miles,” Mikaela interrupted. 

“Miles?” Sam asked. Mikaela lifted her chin, looking behind him. Turning his head just enough to look over his shoulder, Sam could see his friend walking towards them. “Oh jeez.” 

It wasn’t that Sam didn’t like Miles, but his priorities had shifted over the last year and they’d drifted apart and he had no idea how to bridge that gap. Not to mention, Miles’ fixation on the idea that Sam had made a deal with the devil was just irritating and now he needed to explain the fact that he somehow had a twin and . . . “Hey, Samuel. Did you ever see a movie called ‘Death River’?”

“Yes?”

“Remember the scene with the twins?”

Samuel glanced behind him and then they grinned at each other. 

“Oh my God,” Mikaela muttered, hand over her mouth. 

“Sam! Hey Sam!” Miles was waving as he crossed the lawn. “Hey, Sam.”

In unison, Sam and Samuel turned around. “Hello, Miles.”

“Uh . . . ah . . .” Miles looked back and forth between them. “Sam and . . .  Sam?”

Mikaela put her head down in Bumblebee’s roof, trying very hard not to laugh, and she could feel Bumblebee shaking, as he too, was doing his best to restrain his own mirth.

“It’s been too long, Miles,” Sam and Samuel walked towards the other boy, each one stretching out their hand. “He has heard you and it is time. Time to serve him. Serve and become one. One with him, with us.”

Miles tripped backwards and curled up into a ball.” No no no.”

“You offered, Miles and he has heard. Heard, and accepted.” Sam and Samuel knelt on either side of the prone young man, and Sam plucked a few blades of grass. “It is time, Miles.”

“I was kidding! Kidding! It was a joke! A joke! I’m sorry!”

“Exactly,” Sam said and dropped the grass on Miles’ face. 

“Uh, what?” Miles uncovered his face. 

“Seriously, dude,” Sam gave him a light shove. “Come on, do I look like a guy who knows how to make deals with the devil?”

“But you . . . wait, did you just do the twin speech from Death River?” Miles sat up, utterly offended. “Not cool!” Mikaela lost it, falling against Bumblebee’s hood, howling with laughter. “Not cool!” Miles stood up, actually shaking his fist at Sam, who lost it in turn, leaning against Bumblebee’s side, hands clutching his middle.

“Oh man, the look on your face!” Sam howled. “God, I wish I had a camera.”

Miles crossed his arms and glared, utterly indignant. “Why Death River? I mean seriously. You couldn’t have picked another movie? One that isn’t Death River, which is like, every move there is?” He looked at them and then at Samuel again. “And where did you get a twin anyway?”

The time spent driving in from Jasper had been spent discussing just that and Sam took a deep breath.. “We ran into him a few days ago and we decided we should hang out.” He shrugged. “Everyone’s got a doppleganger, y’know?”

“Wow.” Miles peered at Samuel. “Holy shit, aside from the scar, he really looks like you.” He narrowed his eyes. “You sure he’s not an evil twin from another dimension?”

“Wouldn’t he have a goatee?” Sam asked.

“I have never had a goatee,” Samuel deadpanned. 

“Okay, he doesn’t talk like you. Jeez, dude.” Miles shook his head. “You owe me.”

Sam crossed his arms “For?”

“Giving me a heart attack just now, and I demand satisfaction. Battle Monsters, two out of three.” 

“Like you have ever been able to beat me at Bat Mon.”

“I differ!” 

“You are a differ.”

“For that, I get Apex.”

With that, Sam and Miles headed inside, Samuel and Mikaela forgotten. 

“I’m glad,” Mikaela said softly. Samuel looked at her. “Sam and Miles used to be really close. You look at their MySpace pages and they were inseparable. But then the Autobots happened.” She sighed. “They changed everything.” she started walking towards the house and Samuel followed. 

Inside, she led him to the kitchen, getting them both sodas ad sitting down at the kitchen table. “Can I ask you something?” she asked.

“Uh, I guess?”

“You said you and Jack were good friends. Can I ask how good?” Samuel looked away and she saw the glint of tears. “No. I’m sorry, that was too personal, you don’t have to answer.”

Samuel shook his head, and then wiped away the tears. “We . . . we were figuring things out. But then the Autobots came and Jack was . . . uneasy about the side effects.” Mikaela cocked her head, the gesture more than enough to ask. “With a bionetic bond, it’s not just switching bodies. You . . .  you’re linked to the Cybertronain. You see what they see, hear what they hear, feel what they feel and Arcee and Cliffjumper were  . . . were close.”

“Jack thought your feelings were their feelings.” Mikaela realized. 

Samuel looked down at the table. “Yeah. H-he . . .he didn’t abandon the fight, but I was kept at arm’s length for a while after. I think we were getting to a point where we could, y’know, talk about it, but then Galvatron went all out, and people were dying, and then Jack was dead and we never fixed anything!” Both of Samuel’s hands slammed down on the kitchen table, making the cans of soda jump. “I miss him, everyone . . . I miss you.” For a moment, Mikaela was deathly afraid that they had been wrong about Samuel’s mental state and that he thought he was back home in his world. “I mean, not you, but her you. Other her. Something. Apologies.”

Mikaela relaxed. “It sounds like you were close to her too.” Samuel nodded. “Is that why you freaked out when you saw me?”

Samuel stared. “What?”

From overhead, they heard Sam yell and then something fell through the ceiling, hissing at it burned through the wood. Samuel reached out and caught it, triggering flashes of light For just a moment, Mikaela thought she was seeing someone else inside Samuel’s skin, and then Samuel closed his hand and the lightning vanished.

“What was that?” Mikaela asked. Samuel didn’t answer, he was staring at his hand, eyes moving as though in a REM state. “Samuel?”

He looked up. “We have to get back the base.”

It was a testament to how weird Mikaela’s life had become that she simply nodded and stood up, heading for the stairs, Samuel on her heels, where they met Sam coming down the stairs. 

“We’re going back to the base,” she told him, grabbing him by the arm and pushing him towards the front door. 

“But-“

“Samuel has it!”

“But why—“

“Move!”

With that, Mikaela shoved him out the door and over to Bumblebee, where she pushed him into the driver’s seat before getting in herself.

“Back to the base, Bee,” she said, buckling her seat belt. Bumblebee chirped acknowledgement and then floored it. Sam didn’t live too far from the freeway, traffic was light, and Bumblebee was very, very fast. They would be at the on-ramp within minutes. 

“But WHY are we going back to the base?” Sam exclaimed. 

“This is a piece of the Allspark,” Samuel said holding up a small chunk of metal. “It tried to download a bunch of stuff directly into my brain. It probably did the same to you. We need to talk to Ratchet.”

“Sam, how did you get a piece of the Allspark?” Mikaela asked.

“I was going through some of my old clothes to give Samuel and I picked up the sweatshirt I was wearing in Mission City. It fell out and I caught it, but it like, burned my hand.” Sam looked at his open palm. “So I dropped it.”

“Wait a minute,” Mikaela was staring at him. “Sam, a piece of the Allspark has been in your sweatshirt for over a year. A year, and you never picked it up? Never washed it?”

“Well . . . no?”

“What’s an Allspark?” Miles asked from the backseat.

——————————

Getting back to base was more important then Miles finding out and by the time they crossed the state line, they’d told him the entire story.

“So alien robot car, not demon car.” Miles thought about this and then nodded. “Cool.”

“‘Bee’s not a car!” Samuel exclaimed. Miles gave him a look and then pointedly raised his eyes to look at Bumblebee’s roof. “Well okay, he’s a car some of the time. But the term is ‘mech’.”

“Whatever,” Miles waved it off. “Still, it’s pretty cool. God, I would never have to pay for drinks ever again with this story.”

“Okay, one,” Sam half-twisted around in the driver’s seat, trusting in Bumblebee to keep them steady. “You’re six weeks younger than I am and we just graduated high school. That is nowhere near being twenty-one. Two, you cannot tell anyone about this. Not your dad, not Jack Darby, not anyone.”

“Jack Darby? He moved like, five years ago. Why would I tell him? How would I tell him?”

“He works at a burger stand in Jasper, Nevada,” Samuel put in. He was resting his elbow on the tiny rear passenger window, head propped up on his fist, and watching Sam and Miles with a faint, fond smile.

“Memories?” Mikaela asked. 

Samuel nodded, though the smile faded away and he turned to look out the window. “Yeah. Memories.”

————————————

It wasn’t until they were racing up the road to the base that it occurred to Sam to ask. “Bee, why’d you let Miles in?”

“It’s a joke, I say, it’s a joke son!” exclaimed Foghorn Leghorn’s voice from the radio. “It’s a joke and you missed it! Flew right over your head.” A pause, and the the radio spoke again, the words stitched together from different audio clips. “You need Miles. I am proud to be your friend, but I cannot be your only friend. You need Miles and he needs you.”

“But—“

“Sam. Both our people are social creatures. Us more than you. All we have left of Cybertron is each other. You still have Earth. Ron, Judy, Will, Sarah, Annabelle, Mikaela, Miles. The soldiers. Already you have more friends who are alive than I do. Four million years I have fought the Deceptions—“

“Four Million—holy shit!” Miles exclaimed. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Bumblebee confirmed. “So many mechs dead. On both sides. Autobots and Decepticons. You do not have this burden, nor should you. If anything, I would want you to have more friends, more to share your joys and to help you with your sadness. More humans. more friends, Family.”

At the word ‘Family’, Sam and Mikaela looked at each other and even a blind man could see that they were both thinking the same thing.

“Someday,” Mikaela said as they passed through the gates.

“Uh . . . who is that?” Miles pointed out the window at the scene in front of the main hanger. Most of the Autobots and just about all the soldiers were gathered behind Prime who was facing down a mech at least head taller than him and again as wide. “It that one of those bad guys?” While neither was throwing punches, all body language clearly showed that both Prime and the newcomer were a hairsbreadth away from fighting.

“No.” Bumblebee came to a stop and opened his doors. “I don’t think so.”

“Bumblebee.” Arcee, or rather, one of her three selves had come rolling over. “Glad you’re back.”

“Who is that?” Sam asked, pointing at the giant.

“Ironhide called him Grimlock,” Arcee replied. “Apparently he and Prime go way back, and they do not like each other.”

“So he’s an Autobot?” 

“You Prime no need know why Grimlock here!” The voice thundered across the base and the ground vibrated as Grimlock took a step forward, coming almost to the point of touching his chest to that of Prime’s. “Me Grimlock AM here and me Grimlock fight Decepticons.”

“If you wish to fight, Grimlock, that is your wish, but there are rules.” Prime’s voice held a note of real anger. “You will follow them or I will offline you. One, this planet belongs to the humans. We are guests here. Two. The humans wish for us to conceal ourselves. You will find an alternate form and use it when off base unless in battle. Three. You will make reasonable efforts to prevent the loss of human life and property while in battle. Four. You will respect human customs and laws. Five. I am Prime. There is a time for discussion and dispute, and there is a time to follow my orders. I expect you to know the difference.”

For a moment, it seemed like Grimlock was going to hit Prime, and then the large Mech nodded. “Me Grimlock accept stupid rules.”

Prime nodded back. “Arcee, please show Grimlock to Ratchet and help him choose an alternate form.” Prime did not wait for an acknowledgement but instead turned on his heel and headed east, towards the small creek that ran through the base, where he clasped his hands behind his back and stared out into the desert, shoulders tense.

“Well that went well,” Lennox noted as he walked over to them. “Sam. I see you have your friend Miles with you, who is not cleared to know about any of this.” Lennox raised both eyebrows in a demand for an explanation. 

“Sam found a piece of the Allspark. Miles was there and followed us into Bumblebee.” Samuel showed him the Allspark piece. “It was more important to get back here than it was to kick him out.”

“Besides, Sam kicked me out if the car last year so he could impress Barnes out at the lake,” Miles said casually. “I guess he didn’t want to repeat himself.”

“You what?” Mikaela practically snarled. Mikaela’s experiences with trust and honesty growing up had been less than ideal and as a result, she tended to have strict ideas about how to treat your friends, family, and lovers. 

“Ah . . . uh . . .” Sam stammered. “I . . . “ 

Lennox gave Miles a considering look. “Revenge complete?”

Miles sighed happily. “Oh dear God yes.” 

—————————

Ratchet lowered his scanner. “I’m not seeing any abnormal brain activity in either of you.” He looked directly at Samuel. “And you say the Allspark piece downloaded information directly into your brain just by touching it?”

Samuel nodded. “Some kind of equation. I . . . I’m not very good at Cybertronian, let alone math.”

“Hm. Ratchet waved one hand at the computer. “Show me.”

A flash of light, and Samuel was replaced by the large red mech who then carefully made his way to the computer terminal and plugged in.

“How you human do that?” Grimlock demanded. 

“Samuel comes from an alternate timeline,” Ratchet explained. “Simply put, he is one mind in two bodies, one of them being an Autobot.”

“Why Autobot not in body?”

“I’m working on that.”

On the screen, Cybertronian glyphs scrolled upwards, some incomplete, some clearly corrupted. 

“There.” Samuel unplugged and in another flash of light, reverted back to human. 

“Hm.” Ratchet peered at the screen. “These look like astro navigation coordinates . . . but the words . . .”

“It is Old Cybertronian,” Prime said. “From the time of Primus and the First Primes. The Allspark is a product of that time and it stands to reason that whatever it sent to Samuel’s brain would also be in that language.”

“Can you read it, Optimus?” Ratchet asked. 

“Some. You are correct, Ratchet, those are navigation coordinates. Specifically, navigation coordinates for earth.” 

“Earth? But why would the Allspark fragment have those?” Ratchet frowned. “Are you saying—“ From outside there came the sound of a sonic boom and then the hanger shook as alarms blared.

“Prime!” Arcee came barreling into the room. “Something came out of the sky and crashed into the desert! Ten klicks northeast!”

“Autobots roll out!”

——————————————

It didn’t take long to reach the crash site. 

Arcee, whose monowheel let her move quickly, sent one of her selves ahead to scout while the Autobots and humans took cover behind dunes and rock outcroppings. 

“Anything?” Ironhide asked. 

“Coming up on them now,” Arcee replied. “One ship, about the size of a shuttle, looks like it’s from before the war; has that golden orange color. Six mechs, with a seventh strapped to the hull, bound and gagged.”

“Are they armed?” Prime asked.

“One has a some kind of detachable cannon on their back, another one, the biggest, has shoulder cannons, retracted, and a third has what looks like a pair of hand held gatling guns. They’re all gathered near the ship’s rear. Looks like engine trouble.”

“Are they Decepticons?” Lennox asked. 

Arcee frowned. “I’m not even sure they’re Cybertronians. Some of them look like they have organic components or designs.”

“Nebulons?” Ironhide asked.

“Maybe. The Praxians did that too.” Arcee frowned. “We can rule out the GoBings, they’re definitely not Guardian chassis.”

“And they’re sort of busy with ecological collapse and global civil war,” Ironhide added. “Or they were three hundred years ago.”

Lennox and Epps exchanged glances. Every so often, Ironhide would casually mention something that reminded the humans of just how long-lived Cybertronians were. At first, it had given Lennox a sense of awe. Now, it just made him roll his eyes.

“So do we attack or not?” Bulkhead asked.

“Autobots, move in, but do not fire unless fired upon,” Prime decided. “Rules of engagement apply.”

With that, the Autobots moved to within visual range of the ship. It was as Arcee said, a golden orange ship, nose buried in the sand. Six mechs gathered around the rear of the ship, with a seventh strapped to the roof, bound and gagged. The largest of the six, a mech who was colored blue and orange appeared to be the leader as he seemed to be one everyone was talking to. They were still too far away to hear the conversation, but the way the mechs were gesturing, they were arguing about what to do next.

Gesturing for Bulkhead and Ironhide to follow, Prime stepped into full view and headed for the ship at a measured pace. At the ship, the strange mechs turned, some reflexively reaching for weapons, but the blue and orange one shook his head, gesturing for his troops to stand down, before turning to face them, hands behind his back. 

At thirty yards away,. Prime stopped and spoke. “I am Optimus Prime, Autobot commander and defender of this planet. Identify yourselves.”

For a moment, the desert was quiet, and then the tied up mech began to laugh through his gag, loud and long. 

The blue and orange mech sighed, both in annoyance and resignation. “Well . . . that’s just Prime.”

————
Note: GoBings were the racial name of the inhabitants of the planet Gobotron, colloquially known as the GoBots due to a planetary disaster forcing them to inhabit shapeshifting cybernetic bodies. 
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